


Summer

by Tired (Decko)



Series: The Bet [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Apathetic Harry Potter, Blackmail, Dark Magic, Eavesdropping, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle Attend Hogwarts Together, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Manipulative Harry Potter, Manipulative Tom Riddle, Powerful Harry Potter, Quiet Harry Potter, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Politics, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Smart Harry Potter, Wool's Orphanage (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:21:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28612740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decko/pseuds/Tired
Summary: Part two in my The Bet universe.Harry and Tom’s first year at Hogwarts.Including:-Tom and Harry finding out a bit about each other’s not-so-great lives outside of Hogwarts-Harry and Tom’s first meeting-Slytherin politics — most of this fic-Semi-apathetic Harry-Some jokes at Draco’s expense-Rita Skeeter — brief appearance(not specifically in this order)It’s from Harry’s perspective (not 1st person).
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, so its kind of pre-relationship...by like 5 years..., sort of. they’re 11 in this
Series: The Bet [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2006611
Comments: 1
Kudos: 48





	Summer

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second oneshot for this universe. It probably makes sense even if you haven’t read The Bet, but I suggest you do read that first.
> 
> This story was originally just supposed to be Harry and Tom learning a bit about each other’s lives outside of Hogwarts, but then I got distracted and kind of wrote their entire first year instead...

The Dursleys had many rules. They were constantly changing. Not enough that Harry couldn’t keep up, but just enough that he couldn’t afford to stop paying attention for even a moment.

They did have a few rules that never changed, though.

  1. Don’t ask questions.
  2. Don’t talk about “magic” or other such freakishness.
  3. Harry Potter is a freak.



These were the constant, the axis that the other, less consistent rules revolved around, the place where all of the other rules came together.

Harry learned early on to always be in-tune with his surroundings. He did as the Dursleys told him, adjusting to the changing rules as needed, and otherwise stayed out of the way and tried his best to simply disappear.

He learned to examine everything, to observe and to listen, unnoticed, from the sidelines. He learned to constantly be assessing and reassessing everything around him. When he was younger, he had often fidgeted; he’d learned since then to internalize that restlessness, the latent energy. He was never able to stop paying constant attention, to relax.

(That wasn’t true. When he was in his cupboard, he could allow himself to let his guard down, at least mostly. But the idea of being comforted, of feeling safe, because of a place he should hate and feel trapped in, because of his _prison_ —it just seemed so freakish, even for Harry.)

Over the years, he began to think that people were a lot like the Dursleys’ rules. They were constantly changing. They were sometimes easy to read, sometimes they weren’t. But there was always that spot where it all came together. Their central fears and desires and motivations all in one spot that the rest orbits around, that the rest is both elaborating on and distracting from.

Harry learned to look for that spot. He would watch out for the rest as well, because of their more immediate consequences but to truly know someone, that’s what has to be found.

(Even if Harry would never truly understand them. Even if he would always be separate and different and distant and _freakish-_ )

(Harry didn’t need to understand people. He didn’t need to be a part of them. His isolation was largely self-imposed, because he preferred it that way, despite how unpleasant and tiring it could be.)

(It doesn’t hurt to leave behind something — or someone — he hadn’t cared about; it doesn’t hurt to get something he never had taken away. The distance was preferable.)

So he watched for that spot. Studied people until he could see it. Anyone he encountered for any significant amount of time, he found that central axis—or, at the very least, he caught a glimpse. Had a good idea of what was there.

* * *

When Harry had learned of the wizarding world, he had expected wizards to be different from the muggles. He’d been preparing to need to find a new method of working with people, and had been hoping on some level that the other wizards would maybe be something like him. That he wouldn’t be so different and strange in this new world.

And yet, as different and interesting as the culture and etiquette was, the wizards themselves were all _normal._ These were the people his relatives had always referred to as freaks, and yet they were the same; so regular, so ordinary, so _dull—_

He knew them as quickly and as easily as he did the muggles. And he didn’t understand them any better.

And then, he met Tom.

Tom was different. Harry saw it immediately. He had missed the chance at being early to the train because of his relatives. All around him were compartments of friends talking boisterously, and so when he found a compartment with just one kid in it, reading one of their school books, the choice was obvious.

He knocked on the door and then opened it, enough to make his presence known and unignorable but not obtrusive. The kid looked up.

And Harry couldn’t tell how he felt about him being there. Usually he could see _something_ there. Relief, or excitement for a potential friend. Annoyance at the interruption, perhaps. But Harry saw nothing. Just neutral politeness, the kind that let the viewer see whatever they wanted. The kind of expression Harry himself generally wore.

Harry caught a slight glimpse of that spot. It was more hidden than a kid their age was usually capable of making it. But it was there, and once he found it, it practically shouted at him; _Different,_ it said. With a hint of _danger_.

_And that was all._

It had been so long since Harry met someone and didn’t know them. He couldn’t really read him. He couldn’t quite predict him.

(Everything he’d learned told him to get away, to stay away, to study him from a distance until he knew him.

_Dangerous,_ his mind reminded him.

_Different,_ whispered part of his mind that he hadn’t heard in years. **_Interesting._ **)

For the first time in a long time, he overruled those instincts and the majority of his mind.

He opened his mouth and asked, in his quiet but not quite timid voice, “Would you mind if I sat here? Everywhere else is too crowded.”

And the kid nodded easily. They introduced themselves, and then sat and read in silence for the rest of the trip.

(Tom didn’t try to make small talk, so Harry figured the silence was okay. He couldn’t see anything on the other’s face pointing either way.)

* * *

When Harry’s name was called, whispers spread through the hall. Harry didn’t know what the big deal was, but the eyes on him made him more uncomfortable than he’d been in years. He kept himself outwardly neutral as he walked to the stool, having to force himself not to shrink away from their stares.

He managed to get the reason for the staring from the sorting hat: the wizarding world had been under the impression that the Potter line had gone extinct with the murder of Lily and James Potter, as well as their son, Harry Potter (which the sorting hat confirmed actually was him and it wasn’t just some strange coincidence).

Harry was unsurprised when the hat placed him in Slytherin. The hat had easily dismissed Hufflepuff, but thought a bit longer on Ravenclaw before deciding his Slytherin traits clearly outweighed the Ravenclaw ones. It did spend a surprisingly long time considering Gryffindor.

(But sitting with the dangerous kid on the train and the fact that he never thought twice about jumping right into a completely new world stopped Harry from being too surprised by that. He figured the sorting hat likely considered untapped potential as well.)

(There were many surprised faces, so Harry felt it safe to assume his parents weren’t Slytherins.)

He sat at the end of the table, some space between him and the others. They were watching him, gazes not quite threatening, more calculating and curious. He smiled politely to prevent the distance from being seen as rude before looking back to the sorting.

When Riddle was sorted into Slytherin, it went a bit different. There was staring from the students for him as well because of how unusual it was for someone with such a muggle name being sorted into Slytherin. The other houses watched with a kind of surprised pity while the Slytherins’ staring was a bit more hostile.

The other Slytherins casually moved over to make sure he wouldn’t sit next to them. Harry, whose reputation within the house was clearly on the fence, carefully didn’t react as Tom ended up sitting next to him.

When the food appeared, Harry had to consciously mask his surprise. He couldn’t remember ever having seen so much food in one place.

He could feel the other Slytherins watching him consideringly throughout the rest of the meal, and the curious glances of the other houses as well. He couldn’t help but think he wasn’t going to like fame.

* * *

He hated it.

There weren’t many things that were capable of producing intense emotion in him, but fame was apparently one of them.

People were always talking about him, thinking about him. When he was around people—which was a lot, considering they were at a magical boarding school—he was constantly on high alert. His senses went into overdrive and it was difficult not to twitch at every sound and movement. It was a challenge not to show any reaction even as his skin prickled and crawled under the weight of all the eyes on him.

He sat in the back of classrooms and tried to act as average as possible. He slipped away from people as quickly as he could. It worked sometimes, but unfortunately his experience was mainly with people that hated him or didn’t care either way. He wasn’t used to getting away from people that would actively seek out his attention (with the exception of Dudley and his gang).

Within their house, Harry was ignored. It was a hostile environment, especially once they learned he was raised by muggles and knew very little of the magical world, but his name afforded him some measure of protection simply by being a pureblood name, but that only meant most didn’t attack him directly.

He spent a lot of time in the library. He would’ve anyway, as there were less people and more knowledge. The people there were usually Ravenclaws too invested in their books to notice him or were there for something specific. The only threat there were the students sometimes being forced into studying. He avoided those when possible.

Tom was almost always there as well. As time passed, they started helping each other a bit, mostly by leaving each other notes on helpful spells, or with names of books that are particularly useful or important. Occasionally they practiced spells together, if there was only one copy left of a book or they were working on a spell that could go wrong.

Tom didn’t seem like one to ask for help, so it probably helped that he didn’t have to with Harry. He simply had to express interest in a particular spell and mention that it might be dangerous, and Harry would nod and add the spell and its counter to his list. Tom always returned the favor when Harry requested it (he’d usually ask in the form of writing he wanted to learn some spell on those notes of book and spell recommendations).

They went together when they realized they needed to get a pass for the restricted section—a fortunate thing for Harry, considering their head of house hated him for some reason. The professor was a Slytherin halfblood, though, and so understood why they would need a pass. He didn’t even need an explanation of why, simply went to his desk and wrote something down. He handed them with only a “keep him (Harry) out of trouble” to Riddle.

Once they started looking at the more dangerous and forbidden magic, they found themselves practicing together more often. They were both intelligent and very powerful, and neither of them felt the need for idle small talk or to talk about inane things.

For the first time, Harry found himself actually enjoying the time he spent with someone else.

* * *

The fame became even more of a problem as a reporter started making things up about him and writing that he was an evil dark lord in training. The other houses started hexing him in the corridors. The spells weren’t as nasty as the Slytherins’, but there were more of them. Harry was pretty good at avoiding the spells and even sending spells back when necessary, but he still had to look up some wards and protective charms for the upper years or the bigger groups.

While looking into that, he stumbled across a gold mine of spells for remaining unseen or being unnoticed. Most of them were both incredibly advanced and could get him sent to Azkaban if he was caught trying them, but there were a couple he was able to learn.

* * *

It was while practicing those spells that Harry discovered Skeeter’s illegal animagus form. It practically fell in his lap as Skeeter flew in just after he cast the spell and transformed directly in front of him.

For a moment, Harry was understandably shocked at this turn of events before plans of how to use the information started flooding his mind.

His invisible mouth curled in a dark smirk he would never have allowed to cross his face if he were visible.

* * *

After he...convinced Rita Skeeter not to write anything he hadn’t approved of, things began to improve. The attention slowly moved away from him. A week or two later, only the most persistent people still paid him any attention at all. It was far more manageable.

It also opened up more opportunities for him to observe his fellow housemates. Finding dirt on them was simple once the staring stopped and more time was made available. He approached the more influential members in their house (not all at once), who then left him alone as well as most of the other Slytherins, and turned a blind eye when he had private chats with the ones that didn’t. By the end of that month, no one was bothering him anymore — especially once they realized that Harry really did just want to be left alone.

* * *

Harry pitied them.

Well. A more accurate term would be “sympathetically amused,” but considering that’s not a thing anyone says…

The other Slytherins were calmer than they had been a few months before. They’d realized Harry wouldn’t be a threat unless they made him one, but the potential danger he posed still made them a bit wary of him (when they noticed he was around).

He supposed he should’ve expected this of his housemates. They seemed to respect him for using such Slytherin methods of persuasion, but there was fear and suspicion there, too.

He felt a bit like laughing at them because he knew that, if they thought he was bad, they were woefully unprepared for whatever Tom was inevitably going to do.

* * *

When Tom did deal with them, Harry wasn’t there. He was a little bit disappointed, but he supposed it was better this way. Not only did it mean he got plausible deniability, but the fact that he wasn’t there meant that Tom didn’t consider him an enemy. Harry hadn’t thought he did, but it was always good to have concrete confirmation.

In the following days, Harry ignored any looks the other Slytherins sent his way, giving no sign of knowing anything. Most of them assumed he did anyway, given how quickly they knew he could get incriminating information.

“How do you get on his good side?” Malfoy asked in a hushed voice one evening, somewhat desperately. When Harry just raised an eyebrow at him, he shoved a couple of galleons in his hand and then looked at him, an expectant look covering up his nervousness.

His raised eyebrow hadn’t been because he wasn’t paid, but he wasn’t about to refuse it.

“A good start would’ve been not acting like a jerk to him,” Harry said, “but now all you can really do is try to prove yourself to be useful and competent.” He paused and then hid a smirk as he continued, “But don’t constantly ask him if he has something he’d like for you to do. That would annoy anyone.”

Malfoy, who Harry happened to know had annoyed Tom this exact way on numerous occasions already, flushed.

“Tom finds you incredibly annoying,” Harry reiterated bluntly, smirking internally as Malfoy’s face flushed more. “I doubt you’ll stop being irritating, but I’m sure you’re capable of succeeding in other areas.”

* * *

The Slytherins had taken to private power plays among themselves. Tom had established himself as the most powerful student in the lower years, and everyone else was scrambling for their spots under him.

Harry was more or less a non-figure in these things for a while. It wasn’t clear where exactly Harry stood on this—many speculated that he was Tom’s right hand, but there was doubt about that as many people said that a right-hand would’ve been there when Tom dealt with the other Slytherins.

Harry didn’t really care much for labeling relationships. Partially because it was more advantageous to let other people believe them to be whatever they want it to be, and partly because somewhere in his head he was just so _(abnormal)_ disconnected. Just so _separate_ from everyone else. As beneficial as it was, it tended to lead to any attempt at defining things to be as clinical-sounding as it was accurate.

In Harry’s accurate but clinical opinion, he was _not_ Tom’s right-hand man. Being a right-hand man would imply that Harry was one of Tom’s underlings, which was most definitely not the case. He was more of a friendly independent entity. An ally, if you would. More specifically, he could be described as a sort of acquaintance-slash-advisor.

( _Close acquaintance,_ Harry amended. _A friend, perhaps._ )

(He’d never considered anyone a possible friend before. Acquaintance was a much easier, all-purpose, one-size-fits-all title, in Harry’s opinion, though he’s met plenty of people who would disagree.)

Harry’s _persuasion_ earlier in the year had, for the most part, ensured his safety in Slytherin. It wasn’t completely airtight however.

This was because, despite that somewhat infamous ability within Slytherin to gather incriminating information, Harry’s grades were absolutely average and no one had ever seen him actually do anything particularly extraordinary with his magic, and so a couple of desperate students lower on the ladder of power confronted him.

They got him alone one day. Many people unfamiliar with Slytherin politics would think it foolish to confront someone so close to the main power, but very few Slytherins would wholeheartedly agree with that. To some extent, it was true, but as the house of the ambitious, cunning, and power-hungry it was an obvious rule that if someone couldn’t protect their power, they would lose it.

Being favored is not the same as being protected. It was not immunity. Harry didn’t delude himself into thinking that Tom would come rescue him if he lost the little power struggle here.

Unfortunately for the Slytherins that confronted him, however, Harry’s grades weren’t an accurate representation of his skill. When Harry looked at the situation and determined that trying to convince, threaten, bribe, or blackmail them wouldn’t work, he didn’t hesitate.

Malfoy and Zabini were sitting in the next room watching the door. Malfoy, nervously, and Zabini, in a more calculative manner.

Harry walked out, alone, looking as if nothing happened.

That night, three students were relocated to the hospital wing, where they remained unconscious for a week, and then, unsurprisingly, claimed no knowledge of how they got in that condition.

(Everyone in Slytherin knew it was Harry. No one outside of Slytherin even suspected it.)

* * *

No one ever asked about Tom and Harry’s decisions to stay at Hogwarts over the breaks. It was well-known that they were muggle-raised. No one knew the specifics, but it was common knowledge that Tom hated muggles.

Harry’s views on muggles were a little less clear. There was no real consensus, because Harry came across more or less indifferent about everything, not as open or passionate about his beliefs and opinions as Tom, and most people just let the issue go in favor of their method of ignoring Harry unless he approached them first.

But a muggle-raised wizard didn’t get sorted into Slytherin because they _liked_ the muggles they were raised by. Harry never talked about muggles, and no one else brought it up.

* * *

Harry and Tom didn’t often talk about anything personal. They still practiced magic together, traded books on the wizarding world, and discussed their theories, but neither of them were ones to be very open with their emotions or anything personal. If one of them needed support, they got it in comfortable silences, not awkward conversations.

But there were exceptions to everything, of course.

* * *

Harry stood in front of the door, hesitating. For a moment, he considered turning around and going back to the common room.

He pushed away the urge. He had to do this. He had to try.

He took a breath and strengthened his resolve, mustering up all that Gryffindor courage and potential the sorting hat had seen in him. He stepped up to the door, preparing to knock on the door to Dumbledore’s office.

He froze when he heard a familiar voice.

“Professor,” Tom was saying. “Is there any way I could stay at Hogwarts for the summer? Or even just in the magical world at all?” There was a pause, before Tom continued. “I would just really prefer not to stay in the muggle orphanage if it’s possible—“

He stopped as professor Dumbledore sighed. “I am very sorry, my dear boy—“

Harry stepped away from the door then, instinctively going back to the shadows, far enough that he couldn’t hear the conversation. He normally didn’t have any qualms about eavesdropping, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty or at least conflicted about it now.

After a few long moments, the door opened, Tom’s face one of bitter resignation. Then, he saw Harry, and his face smoothed over into something more neutral. Harry supposed the cracks in the mask were easily forgiven, given how off-center he himself was feeling.

Tom did an admirable job of keeping his face unreadable, all things considered, but the set of his jaw gave him away.

Harry had expected there to be some form of satisfaction when he finally got his first clear look at that spot. He should’ve known it would end up being a situation like this.

Not only that, but Harry could see Tom reading him as easily as Harry was now reading Tom. He suspected either his eyebrows or his nose to be the traitors, but he couldn’t be sure.

“How much did you hear?” Tom demanded.

“Enough,” Harry replied simply.

Tom just looked at him for a long moment before turning and starting to walk away. Harry, no longer having any reason to be here, decided to walk back to the common room. Of course, that meant he ended up walking in the same direction as Tom.

Harry stayed a bit behind him, having the distinct feeling that Tom wouldn’t want him seeing his face. After a moment of walking, Harry hesitantly said, “If I could help you, Tom, I would—“

“Don’t you need to talk to Dumbledore?” Tom interrupted. “Or were you just there to listen in?”

Harry ignored the unreasonable nature of asking that question to Harry, who Tom knew ensured his safety with knowledge he shouldn’t have. He easily crushed the urge to snap back at Tom.

“I did go there to talk to him,” Harry said, “But there’s not really any point, anymore.”

“Don’t change your mind out of some misguided sense of pity,” Tom replied, bitterness seeping into his voice. “I—“

“It’s not pity, Tom,” Harry cut in. “Have you ever known me to do something out of pity?”

“No,” Tom admitted after a moment of silence. “But what else—?”

“There’s no reason to ask a question when I already know the answer.” When Tom didn’t seem to get it, Harry continued. “I was there for the same reason you were.”

Tom’s walking slowed when he processed that. Harry fell into step next to him. He could feel Tom’s eyes on him, but he kept his eyes resolutely forward, face as blank as he could manage.

“I live with my mother’s muggle family,” Harry explained. “They know about magic, since my mother was a witch, but they hate it.” He paused. “Clearly, I’m not in the best position to help you. But if there’s any way I can, let me know.”

Tom was silent for a long moment.

“I was going to go to the library,” he said at last. A transparent lie, considering they were both on a direct path to the common room, in the opposite direction of the library.

Tom was the one resolutely looking forward with as neutral a face as possible, now. Harry studied his face the way Tom had his just a few moments before, trying to see what exactly Tom wanted from him.

After a moment, Harry looked forward again. “I needed to pick up a book for my charms homework anyway.” The charms homework they both knew Harry had already finished.

Neither of them talked again. Neither of them needed to.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know how well the Apathetic Harry Potter tag actually works for this fic. Harry in this fic is supposed to be genuinely disinterested (or at least mostly) in other people — he pays attention to people but only as much as he thinks he has to, otherwise he would rather be alone, sleeping or reading a book or something.
> 
> I posted another oneshot for this series at the same time as this one called Missing — part one. There might be a part two, but only if the feedback to the fic is good.
> 
> This is called “Summer” bc it was originally just the whole Harry overhearing the Dumbledore conversation part. Obviously, it ended up being more than that, but I couldn’t think of a better title in time. Feel free to offer suggestions.
> 
> Please comment and let me know what you think! :)


End file.
